


Benefits

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: Jesse is immediately confronted by a man on his knees, giving another man a very enthusiastic blow job.  Jesse starts to back out when he accidentally locks eyes with the man receiving the blow job.Commander Reyes.---Jesse has mixed feelings about his whatever-with-benefits situation he's stumbled into with his commander.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Comments: 17
Kudos: 125





	Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's been awhile! idk what happened to me, but I spit this up over three feverish days. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Thanks to [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/pseuds/fabrega/works) for being there always ♥ 
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/smarshtastic), [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/mcreyes), and [tumblr](https://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) ♥

There’s not much in the way of entertainment in the sleepy little town where Blackwatch is currently stationed: there's the target, and the secure facility, and not much else. It’s a small facility, too, but the Blackwatch squad is used to being on top of each other all the time. The real problem is that their target has gone unusually quiet and surveillance has gotten extremely boring. 

Reyes decides to scale down surveillance, just in case the target has sensed that he’s being watched. This gives the Blackwatch squad even more downtime. It’s not that they don’t appreciate it - they hardly get any time off - it’s more that there’s a target _right there_ and they can’t do anything about it. They aren’t used to sitting idle. 

Shiga, ever the optimist, takes it upon himself to find something to do. He goes exploring and manages to find the only place in the vicinity that might actually be interesting: an underground gay bar with nightly live music. It’s not in any of the travelers’ guide books, which is perfect. He invites Jesse to go with him on one of their overlapping nights off to check the place out. Jesse agrees instantly; he’s bored and has been hankering for a night out for ages. Even though he and Fred are no longer an Item, Jesse likes hanging out with him and knows they’re in for a fun night. Or at least a memorable one. They dress in their civvies and head out after dinner. 

The club is located in a not-so-great part of town, but Shiga assures Jesse that they’ll be fine. 

“Besides,” Shiga says reasonably. “We’re secret agents of the most secretive and deadly intelligence agency in the entire world. We can handle pretty much anything this sleepy little town can throw at us.” 

“Let’s not tempt fate now,” Jesse says. Shiga laughs and bumps his shoulder into Jesse’s. Jesse rolls his eyes but he trusts Shiga - he wouldn’t lead him into any _actual_ trouble. 

They hear the club before they even set eyes on the exterior; the music is thrumming loud enough to be heard down the block. An imposing bouncer gives them both the stink eye before he waves them down the steps to the basement. 

Jesse’s been to his share of seedy places, but this place gives the others a run for their money. The lights are dim and flickering - on purpose or not is up for debate - and the painted walls are peeling. The arrangement of bottles behind the bar is haphazard at best and neither bartender looks like they’re enjoying their job. Still, the place is packed, even at this relatively early hour, the dance floor full of bodies gyrating more or less in time with the music that’s blaring at top volume. 

Shiga grins at Jesse. 

“Drink?” he shouts. “My treat.” 

Jesse nods. Shiga starts pushing his way through the crowd towards the bar, easily slipping through the mass of bodies. Jesse follows a few feet behind, keeping an eye on the back of Shiga’s head. He loses him in the crowd so Jesse steps towards one end of the bar and looks around. There’s a few crescent-shaped booths along the walls; Jessy can see bodies pressed together, furtively jerking each other off under the table in more than one booth. There’s a small group doing lines in a bigger corner booth. On a cramped stage across from the bar, a small band is awash in lights from the rainbow strobes. Jesse can see them glistening with sweat from across the dance floor. The band is extremely into whatever music they’re making - Jesse isn’t sure if he could come up with a genre of pressed. The musicians don’t seem to acknowledge the crowd, but the crowd is likewise very involved in their gyrating. Jesse wouldn’t be surprised if there was more than grinding going on somewhere out there. 

Shiga reappears at Jesse’s elbow with two glasses in hand. He passes one to Jesse and clinks his glass against Jesse’s. Jesse takes a sip and immediately makes a face. He shouldn't have let Fred order their drinks; it’s sweet and fruity and is going to get Jesse hammered faster than he can spit. He can almost feel the hangover. Shiga grins at him. He does this every time - Jesse should really know better by now. 

“Finish up, cowboy. Then we can dance,” Shiga says. Jesse can’t really hear him, but he can read lips. He rolls his eyes at Shiga and knocks his drink back in a few long gulps. Shiga does the same. He takes Jesse’s empty glass. “More?” 

“You’re gonna kill me,” Jesse says good naturedly. 

Shiga laughs and slips back through the crowd to refill their glasses. Jesse can still taste the sickly sweetness in his mouth. He’ll regret it in the morning, but he needs the distraction right now. The boredom has been eating at him - it’s definitely not good for his mental health. He’s ready to shake off some of that restless energy. 

After two more drinks, Jessy is feeling pleasantly buzzy. He and Shiga plunge into the bodies writhing on the dance floor and let loose. 

Jesse isn’t much of a dancer, so he’s glad for the anonymity of the club. He just moves his body and lets the alcohol loosen him up until he’s swaying with the crowd. Bodies press up against him, some of them just because the crowd is huge but then there’s one or two men who attempt to grind on him. Jesse doesn’t mind - he grinds back until the crowd carries the men away. At least one man tries to put his hand down Jesse’s pants, but Jesse gives him a sharp shoulder check and moves away to less invasive pastures. 

Jesse’s doesn’t know how much time passes - he’s sweaty and he’s lost track of Shiga. He needs to piss. He makes his way to the edge of the crowd with some difficulty. Someone grabs him and tries to pull him in, but Jesse slips out of his grip and continues on his way. 

The bathrooms are down a short, dingy hallway, in which several pairs are making out aggressively against the peeling walls. Jesse weaves between the couples and comes to the bathroom door. He pushes it open and steps inside. 

Jesse is immediately confronted by a man on his knees, giving another man a very enthusiastic blow job. He should’ve expected something like this, given the rowdiness of the crowd. Jesse starts to back out when he accidentally locks eyes with the man receiving the blow job. 

Commander Reyes. 

Jesse freezes, his mind sluggish with the booze. He takes in Reyes in his civvies, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall, his shirt rucked up to expose his muscled abs, the trail of hair leading down to where the other man’s head is bobbing. Reyes has one hand cupping the back of the man’s head, his fingers twisted in his hair. As Jesse stares, Reyes’ mouth drops open and Jesse finally snaps out of it. Jesse stumbles backwards out of the bathroom. As the door swings shut behind him, he swears he can hear a throaty groan. 

In a haze, Jesse moves back out to the dance floor, weaves through the crowd and out the door, completely forgetting about Shiga. The image of Commander Reyes is seared into his mind’s eye. 

Jesse’s always had more than a bit of a crush on his commander, but seeing him like _that_ … 

He doesn’t know how he does it, but Jesse gets himself back to the Blackwatch facility and into the bunk he’s been sharing with Shiga. The room is dark but Jesse doesn’t bother turning on the lights. He falls into his bunk without bothering to kick off his shoes and shoves his hand down the front of his jeans. He wraps his hand around his dick, which is already half-hard with the image of Commander Reyes getting sucked off in the bathroom of a gay club. 

Jesse screws his eyes shut, trying to imagine what it would be like to be the one on his knees, Reyes’ hand in his hair. The shape of Reyes’ mouth, the soft O of his lips when they locked eyes. His lips had been swollen and shiny, his eyes dark and intense. Jesse squirms on his bunk as he unzips his pants to give him better access to his dick, his boots pulling up the sheets. 

“Fuck,” Jesse breathes when he finally gets his dick free. He strokes himself down hard and fast, letting his imagination go wild. He hasn’t let himself think about what it would be like to be with Reyes, but now it’s impossible not to. Those abs, that mouth... 

Jesse twists his wrist on an upstroke. He cries out as he comes, imagining the feeling of Reyes’ mouth on his own. 

Breathing hard, Jesse goes boneless. The room spins a little, reminding Jesse how much alcohol is in his system. He closes his eyes against it and immediately the image of Reyes’ swims back to him. Jesse makes a small noise. This is going to be a problem. 

-=-=-

The next day, Jesse is horribly hungover, as expected, but unfortunately Jesse remembers everything from the previous night. It made it exceedingly difficult to get out of bed. Shiga slides into a seat next to Jesse in the briefing room and nudges him. 

“You disappeared last night,” Shiga says. Jesse grimaces, but Shiga doesn’t look offended. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he says. 

“Meet someone?” Shiga asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Yeah, something like that,” Jesse says. The image of Reyes flashes in his memory. He swallows hard. 

“Nice,” Shiga says. He punches Jesse’s shoulder lightly. Commander Reyes walks into the room and Jesse squirms in his seat. If Reyes had recognized Jesse last night, he gives no indication. In fact, it’s business as usual. Reyes doles out fresh assignments based on new intel and everyone gets to work. 

All day, Jesse has a hard time concentrating. Whenever Reyes is close by, Jesse forgets to breathe. He has to redo a surveillance detection run plan twice. Jesse pretends it’s the hangover. 

Reyes doesn’t act any differently than normal all day long. It occurs to Jesse, at one point, that it might not have actually been Reyes in the bathroom at the club. The more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense - Jesse was drunk, the lighting was bad, it was probably just wishful thinking on his part. Jesse tries really hard to convince himself that he was just imagining that it was Reyes, but something inside him is absolutely _convinced_ that he saw Reyes getting head. 

The next few days pass uneventfully; Jesse conducts a successful SDR and picks up a package from a dead drop without any issues. Surveillance picks up again when the squad gets a lead on a possible new informant. The image of Reyes in his head fades as the days pass, and Jesse can almost pretend like he never saw anything. He tucks his crush on Reyes back into the dark recesses of his mind where he’s used to it being. Life goes on. 

Jesse gets another day off a week or two later. Unfortunately, this time around, nobody else has the night off with him. He heads into the room they’ve been using to run the operation to find Shiga and Valdez poring over the data from the new informant. Valdez glances up briefly. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had the night off,” Valdez says. 

“I figured I’d see if there’s any slack I could pick up,” Jesse says. 

“We got this covered,” Valdez says. “Take the time off. Who knows when you’ll get another. I have a feeling this data is gonna crack this thing wide open.” 

“Plus, it’s not like we get paid overtime,” Shiga points out. “Go enjoy your night. Have a drink for me. Maybe track down that guy you hooked up with the other night?” 

The image of Commander Reyes in the dingy bathroom comes flooding back to Jesse. He swallows thickly. 

“Hah. Not likely,” Jesse says. Shiga leans all the way back in his chair, tipping back dangerously. 

“I will work _so_ much better if I know you’re out there having fun,” he says. Across from him, Valdez rolls her eyes. 

“Alright, alright,” Jesse says. “But if you change your mind…” 

“We won’t. Now go away, you’re distracting Fred,” Valdez says. Shiga grins at Jesse and then suddenly loses his balance. Jesse lunges forward to stop Shiga from falling. 

“My hero!” 

“See, you do need me,” Jesse says. 

“Go away!” 

Jesse leaves before Valdez starts throwing things. She has a good arm. 

-=-=-

Jesse ends up wandering aimlessly around town. He’s gotten to know the streets quite well as he’s scouted out dead drop locations and conducted SDRs. He doesn’t have a destination in mind, and yet, he ends up back at the basement club. The music is booming, spilling into the street. Jesse lingers at the top of the stairs for long enough that the bouncer clears his throat. 

“You want a personal invitation or something?” the bouncer asks. Jesse makes a face and walks inside. 

The music is deafening once again, and the dance floor is a sea of bodies. Jesse wonders vaguely whether there’s ever a quiet night here. He makes his way to the bar with some difficulty. Eventually, he manages to get himself a very healthy double shot of whiskey, which he knocks back immediately. He orders another and then moves to the side to sip his second drink. Tonight’s band is more “noise” than “music,” but that doesn’t seem to deter the crowd from their gyrating. 

As Jesse sips his whiskey, he wonders why he came here - what was he hoping for? Lightning never strikes the same place twice. 

Jesse’s gaze drifts from the dancers to the booths lining the walls. The corner booth is again occupied by a half a dozen people snorting lines, while most of the other booths are occupied by couples trying to stay in the shadows, hands everywhere, connected at the mouth. There’s one booth that appears to only have one person in it. The strobe light flashes over the booth, and Jesse’s heart skips a beat. He takes a shaky sip of whiskey and waits for the strobe to come around again, not quite sure if he should believe his eyes. 

The strobe flashes over the man in the booth. In that instant, Jesse takes in the gleam of the man’s eyes in the shadow of the hood he’s drawn up over his head. He’s leaning back in the booth, one arm over the back of the seat, the other hand wrapped around a half full glass of something brown. 

Jesse knocks back his own drink. He has to know. 

Empty glass in hand, Jesse strides over to the booth and stops at the edge of the table. The hooded man tilts his head up. The strobe flashes over his face. 

Commander Reyes. 

“Come here often?” Jesse asks, sounding more self-assured than he feels. 

“Only once before,” Reyes says evenly. Jesse’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” 

Reyes raises his glass. 

“Why don’t you have a seat instead?” 

Jesse swallows thickly. He slides into the booth before he can think twice. Reyes shifts slightly so he can look at Jesse. His expression is unreadable. Jesse is sure he’s bright red - he hopes it’s dark enough that Reyes can’t tell. He sets his empty glass on the table and wills himself not to fiddle with it. 

“What about you?” Reyes says. “Come here often?” 

Jesse shakes his head vigorously. “Just the one time.” 

Neither of them say anything for a long moment. The blood rushing in Jesse’s ears is almost enough to drown out the music thrumming around them. His mind races through a series of pros and cons, but he already knows the answer. He makes his decision. 

Under the table, Jesse slips a hand onto Commander Reyes’ thigh. Reyes’ expression doesn’t change. He holds Jesse’s gaze. Jesse swallows thickly and inches his hand up Reyes’ thigh. 

“Seems like a good place to blow off some steam, though,” Jesse says. 

“As good as any,” Reyes agrees. Jesse moves his hand so his fingers graze the inside of Reyes’ thigh, dangerously close to his crotch. Reyes still doesn’t make any attempt to move one way or the other, so Jesse risks it. He goes for Reyes’ fly. 

“Maybe I could help with that,” Jesse says. He pops open the button on Reyes’ jeans. 

“If you’d like.” 

Jesse’s hand freezes. He searches Reyes’ face. 

“What about you?” Jesse asks. Reyes raises one eyebrow. 

“I should stop you,” Reyes says, his voice going lower. It sends a shiver up Jesse’s spine. “But I’m not going to.” 

Jesse closes the space between them, crushing his mouth to Reyes’. He tastes like whiskey and Jesse realizes that Reyes is kissing him back. Jesse fumbles with the zipper of Reyes’ jeans and finally manages to get it far down enough that he can slip his hand inside. Reyes brings his hand up to cup the back of Jesse’s head, fingers tangling in Jesse’s hair. A small noise that’s almost a moan escapes Jesse’s lips. He manages to wrap his fingers around Reyes’ dick - he’s already half-hard. Jesse shivers. The angle is horrible but he does his best to stroke Reyes down without breaking contact with Reyes’ mouth. He can feel Reyes harden in his palm - Jesse marvels at how thick he is, imagining what it would be like to have him in his mouth. 

Reyes tightens his hand in Jesse’s hair, drawing an actual moan from Jesse’s throat. He tugs until Jesse finally pulls away, his hand stilling under the table. He can feel Reyes’ pulse in his palm. 

“You don’t have to do this.” 

“I want to.” 

Reyes searches Jesse’s face, moving his hand from the back of Jesse’s head and cupping his jaw. Jesse hardly dares to breathe. He keeps eye contact with Reyes, desperately hoping that he doesn’t change his mind. Reyes runs his thumb over Jesse’s lower lip. Jesse closes his mouth around it. Reyes’ eyes flutter closed for a brief moment. 

“Come on,” Reyes says gruffly, dropping his hand. He starts moving out of the booth and Jesse scrambles to follow. Reyes hitches his jeans as they weave through the crowd, down the hallway, and into the dingy bathroom. Jesse half-expects it to be occupied, but there’s nobody inside. 

As soon as Jesse gets through the door, Reyes pins him against the dirty wall, crushing his lips to Jesse’s. Jesse sucks in his breath, but then he’s kissing him back eagerly. It’s rough and a little bit sloppy - they’ve both had a few drinks, and it’s starting to show. Reyes keeps Jesse pinned to the wall with his body, his hands settling on Jesse’s hips, fingers pushing up under the fabric of his shirt to get at the skin underneath. Jesse loves the way Reyes has him pinned - he can feel every inch of Reyes’ body against his own. He lets his own hands roam, feeling his muscles underneath his shirt, the heat of his skin. Jesse runs his hands down Reyes’ back and dips his fingers under the waistband of his jeans to touch the curve of his ass. Jesse arches off the wall to press against Reyes even more. He wants more, needs more. 

Reyes pulls away and Jesse swallows down a whine at the loss. He scans Jesse’s face again. 

“Don’t stop,” Jesse says. He needs this. He needs Reyes. 

Reyes makes a noise that vibrates through Jesse’s chest. He takes a half step back and Jesse opens his mouth to protest, but Reyes spins him around and pushes him back up against the wall. Jesse’s cheek presses up against the grimy tile, but he’s not thinking about that - Reyes deftly unbuttons Jesse’s fly and pulls down the zipper then tugs on the waistband of Jesse’s jeans until they slide down, exposing Jesse’s ass. Reyes lets his own jeans slide back down and then pushes back up against him, the thick line of his cock fitting between Jesse’s cheeks. Jesse forgets to breathe. Reyes presses his mouth against the knob at the back of Jesse’s neck. 

“You can change your mind,” Reyes says, his breath hot on Jesse’s skin. “Any time.” 

“I won’t,” Jesse says. He thinks he can feel Reyes’ lips curve into a smile, but the next moment Reyes is pulling away. Jesse turns his head to look, but Reyes has just stepped to the side to examine the condom dispenser hanging next to the sink, which looks like it has seen better days. Reyes drops a couple of coins into the machine and turns the knob. He palms the condom and a packet of lube and turns back to Jesse. Jesse pushes his jeans down further, freeing his erection. “C’mon.” 

Reyes tears open the condom packet with his teeth as he moves behind Jesse again. He presses his chest against Jesse’s back, his mouth close to Jesse’s ear. Jesse pushes back against him. He feels a cold drizzle of lube slide between his cheeks and then the blunt tip of Reyes’ cock presses up against his ass. 

“Give it to me, c’mon,” Jesse breathes, turning his head slightly to look at Reyes. Reyes’ hood has long fallen back, and Jesse can see the gleam in his eyes. Reyes presses his palm between Jesse’s shoulder blades, using the other to steady his dick as he pushes into Jesse. Jesse’s mouth drops open. He presses his forehead against the tile and tries to concentrate on his breathing. Reyes moves slowly, sinking into Jesse inch by inch. Jesse feels like he’s being split open, but the burn feels so fucking good. Reyes pauses when he’s flush with Jesse’s ass. 

“Alright?” 

“Fuck me, Reyes, just fuck me,” Jesse says, unable to keep the desperate note out of his voice. Reyes makes that low, growling sound deep in his chest again and then he’s pulling away and slamming back into Jesse. 

It’s fast, it’s rough - Reyes holds onto Jesse’s hips with both hands, pulling him back to meet every thrust. Jesse’s hands scrabble for purchase on the tile wall, trying to get leverage to push back into Reyes’ hips. He can’t keep the sharp inhales, the little gasps from spilling out of his mouth each time Reyes drives into him. His own cock is hard, aching to be touched. A drop of precome glistens on the tip of it. 

Reyes’ thrusts start to get a little more erratic, sharper, an edge to each thrust. He moves one hand up Jesse’s back and grips the back of his neck. Jesse nearly goes boneless at the sensation, but Reyes holds him steady. His breath is hot around his ear. Reyes isn’t exactly moaning, but the way he huffs out each breath goes right to Jesse’s dick. Jesse doesn’t want it to end, but Reyes thrusts all the way in with a grunt and holds there. Jesse clenches around him, his eyes squeezed shut, panting hard. 

Reyes doesn’t pull away - instead, he reaches around and takes Jesse’s dick in his hand. Jesse sucks in his breath. 

“Fuck,” Jesse says, his voice breaking a little. Reyes strokes Jesse down, quick and dirty. Jesse clenches around Reyes’ softening cock. He loses it when Reyes presses a warm, wet, open-mouthed kiss against the side of his neck. His dick jerks in Reyes’ hand and splatters the graffiti-covered wall. 

Jesse’s chest heaves as he comes down from his high. Reyes steps back, his cock slipping free, and Jesse mourns the loss. He wonders vaguely if this was all just a dream. Jesse straightens and turns around as Reyes is tying off the condom and tossing it in the overflowing trash can. Jesse looks away as he pulls his jeans back up. 

“We should do this again sometime,” Jesse says, before he can think better of it. He looks up to gauge Reyes’ reaction. His face is stoic, unreadable as usual. 

“We should,” Reyes says. Jesse tries to hide his surprise. “You should get back to the facility first. There’s a meeting in the morning.” 

Jesse blinks, then nods. When Reyes doesn’t move, Jesse puts his hand on the door. Reyes gives him a little nod. 

“Well. Good night, commander,” Jesse says. He pushes the door open and walks out of the club in a bit of a daze. 

-=-=-

That is the rather ignoble start of Jesse’s friends-or-whatever-with-benefits arrangement with Reyes. Neither of them really speak about it, and they never work out the terms of their agreement either. But, sometimes Jesse shows up at Reyes’ office late at night, or Reyes has Jesse stay back after a mission, and they’d fuck - hard, but fast, with minimal foreplay, if any. Blow jobs under desks, a quick fuck in a supply closet - they are creative and prolific. 

Jesse takes to carrying packets of lube in his pockets at all times. 

Jesse doesn’t tell anyone about hooking up with the commander - not even Shiga. For his part, Reyes doesn’t seem to treat Jesse any differently. Reyes isn’t known for his leniency or favoritism in the first place, and Jesse enjoys no extra privileges now that he’s occasionally sleeping with his commander. That’s reassuring, in a way; Jesse has always been a bit sensitive about his place in Blackwatch, and, in particular, he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s come by his rank by sleeping his way to the top. 

If anything, Reyes might sit near him in a transport shuttle, or stand next to him while going over maps or plans. But, Jesse tells himself, he’s probably imagining the close proximity - he can’t reliably say that Reyes’ behavior has changed at all, and he doesn’t want to consult Shiga either, because the teasing would be endless. 

Months go by. Still, neither Jesse nor Reyes brings up the terms of their arrangement. Jesse has no idea what Reyes is thinking - for all he knows, hooking up with Jesse just might be a convenient way to scratch an itch. It’s certainly easier than cruising for guys in seedy bars. Jesse does his best to keep his feelings out of the whole situation, but there are times where he catches himself imagining something more. He has to quash those feelings quickly - he’ll be damned if he shows his belly to the commander. 

As time goes on, though, Jesse finds it harder and harder to ignore the nagging questions in the back of his mind. He is desperately smitten with Reyes; he’s ridiculously smart, handsome, and capable. He’s unwavering and conniving, an excellent soldier and even better covert ops agent. Jesse loves his dry humor, loves that Reyes would lay down his life to protect his team, loves that Reyes treats them all as equals, not subordinates. Reyes has made Jesse feel welcome, worthy, like he belongs here, in Blackwatch. It’s a feeling that Jesse hasn’t felt for a long time. 

Without realizing it, Jesse initiates sex less and less with Reyes. He never turns Reyes away, but their trysts become fewer and farther between. 

Reyes holds Jesse back after a mission. Jesse knows what that means. He can’t remember the last time they hooked up, and, if Jesse’s being honest with himself, he could stand to work off some of the lingering adrenaline. The two of them end up in the locker room showers after everyone has gone. Reyes pins Jesse to the wall as the water cascades over them. He hoists one of Jesse’s legs up around his hip. Jesse wraps his arms around Reyes’ shoulders as he thrusts into him, his own shoulders slipping on the wet tile. Reyes buries his face into the crook of Jesse’s neck. Jesse lets his head fall back against the shower wall and closes his eyes. 

Reyes fucks into Jesse, his teeth grazing his shoulder, that low rumble in his chest vibrating against Jesse’s. Jesse’s dick is rubbing up against the divot in Reyes’ abs, sliding easily with the water. Reyes comes with a grunt. He brings up a hand to wrap around Jesse’s dick. 

“You don’t gotta,” Jesse finds himself saying. Reyes stops mid-stroke and looks at Jesse. His mouth is half open, the color high on his cheeks. There’s a question in his eyes, but he lets go of Jesse’s cock. Jesse almost immediately regrets opening his mouth. 

“Okay,” Reyes says, taking a half step back. Jesse turns around and shuts off the water, hunching his shoulders. When he turns back to face Reyes, it feels like something intangible has shifted between them. 

“Sorry,” Jesse says. He pushes his wet hair off his forehead. 

“You don’t have to apologize. You’re allowed to change your mind - that was the deal,” Reyes says. Jesse drops his hand to his side. 

“Right.” 

“What is it?” 

“What?” Jesse shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I’m tired - the mission was long.” 

He tries to move around Reyes, but he grabs his wrist. 

“You want to stop doing this?” Reyes asks bluntly. Jesse swallows thickly. 

“What - scratching an itch? ‘Cause that’s what this is, right? Convenient,” Jesse says. It comes out harsher than he means. Part of his brain is screaming for him to stop talking, but his chest aches. Reyes’ posture straightens slightly. 

“If you changed your mind, that’s fine,” Reyes says. His expression has gone blank, back to stoic and unreadable. “I said that at the start. No hard feelings.” 

“Right,” Jesse says. He tries to move away again and this time Reyes doesn’t stop him. 

“Alright then.” 

Jesse goes to grab a towel, half-expecting, half-hoping that Reyes would follow. Instead, he hears the water turn on again. Jesse grabs his clothes and leaves the locker room, chest tight. 

-=-=-

A few weeks pass. Reyes treats Jesse exactly the same as before - maybe a little bit cooler - but he no longer propositions him. Jesse feels like an idiot for pressing the issue. What was he trying to gain? Reyes was right: it was clear from the start that Jesse could opt in or opt out whenever he wanted. It was never a relationship - that wasn’t on the table. It was an arrangement of convenience. They both wanted a quick fuck, they got their rocks off, and that was that. 

The plain facts don’t really make Jesse feel any better. 

Jesse does his best to not sulk - he throws himself into his work and keeps himself busy. It works for a while, but a lull in their operational obligations brings too much free time, and too much time to dwell. 

Early one morning, Jesse is sitting alone in the mess, picking at his cereal. Shiga and Valdez sit down across from him. The clatter of their trays on the table startles Jesse out of his self-pity. 

“Can you please go back to sleeping with the commander?” Shiga asks. Jesse chokes. 

“W-what?” 

“Don’t play dumb,” Valdez says. “That only works on people who don’t know you.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jesse insists. Shiga shakes his head. 

“No, see, you do, because you were fucking Commander Reyes and now you’re not, and we’re all suffering for it,” Shiga says. 

“Don’t make me get out the pictures,” Valdez says grimly. Jesse blanches. 

“We’re spies, remember?” Shiga says. “Really, really _good_ spies.” 

“Both you and Reyes have been unbearable,” Valdez says. “Can’t you, I don’t know, kiss and make up?” 

Jesse looks between Shiga and Valdez. He shakes his head. 

“It wasn’t like that,” Jesse says. 

“What do you mean?” 

“It wasn’t - ” Jesse waves a hand. “It was a casual thing. Friends-with-benefits, kinda.” 

Shiga and Valdez exchange a look. 

“So what happened?” Shiga asks. Jesse shrugs. 

“We stopped.” 

“Did you have a fight or something?” 

“No. We just… stopped.” 

Valdez looks skeptical but doesn’t say anything. 

“Is there any way you could, like, pick that whole thing up again?” Shiga asks. Jesse stirs his cereal around in the bowl. 

“I think that ship has sailed,” Jesse says. “Has it really been that bad?” 

“You’ve been sulking,” Valdez says. “And Reyes is snippier than usual. Very grumpy.” 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Jesse says, honestly. It’s not that he’s been _avoiding_ Commander Reyes necessarily, it’s just that he’s made sure to not be underfoot. 

“It’s hard when you’re not getting laid on the regular,” Shiga says sympathetically. Valdez opens her mouth to refute that, but apparently thinks better of it. Shiga grins at her. 

“Look, I’m sure it’ll blow over,” Jesse says. 

“Jesse, it’s been _weeks_ ,” Shiga says. “Maybe even months. I’ve lost track.” 

“Once operations pick back up again, it won’t be a problem,” Jesse says. 

“Maybe,” Valdez says, although she doesn’t sound convinced. 

“Just - think about it, okay?” Shiga says. “You could probably fix it.” 

Jesse isn’t sure that Shiga is right, so he pushes down the little spark of hope that ignites in the back of his head. 

-=-=-

As expected, operations do pick up. Terrorism doesn’t sleep for long. The Blackwatch strike team is deployed to Monaco to surveil and possibly arrest a casino magnate who is suspected of laundering money for terrorists. 

They settle in and set up shop. Their informant proves difficult to work with - he thinks that he’s due some sort of compensation in advance of the team cracking the case, and refuses to cooperate when they tell him that compensation is awarded after the completion of a successful mission. Still, the informant gave them enough information to work with, and the squad sets up rotating coverage of the casinos, the target’s home, her mistress’s home, and the potential meeting site. 

Jesse is trailing the target tonight. Intel indicates that the target is going to meet up with his terrorist liaison. The Newtons are covering his house, Shiga’s on the mistress, and Valdez is on the potential meeting site. Prithi and Edwards are back at their base coordinating their response, and Kepler is on standby with the B team in case they need more back up. Reyes was called back to the Swiss base for urgent United Nations matters a few days ago, so the strike team is on their own, not that it really matters. They’re more than capable of coordinating the mission without Reyes looking over their shoulder. 

Jesse is sitting at a table at a cafe across the street from the casino, sipping a cup of espresso and biding his time. The sun is setting, casting the sky in deep blues and oranges, when the target finally leaves the casino. Unlike other nights, tonight the target is accompanied by two burly bodyguards. A slick sports car pulls up and the target and the body guards get in then the target. Jesse tips back the rest of the espresso. 

“Target is en route,” Jesse mutters, knowing his earpiece will pick up his voice. “It’s not her usual car. Sports car, white. Can’t make out the model or the plate.” 

“We’ll check the database,” Prithi says. “Let us know if you get the plate.” 

“Will do.” 

Jesse stands and leaves a few bills on the table before walking around the corner to where he parked his car the previous day. It’s significantly less flashy than the target’s, a necessity so that Jesse can follow her undetected. The car is fast, though. Jesse will have no problem keeping up with the sports car. 

Jesse starts the engine and heads off in the direction of the target. 

It doesn’t take long for Jesse to catch up; the sports car is anything but subtle, and it stands out even among the innumerable luxury cars that line the streets. 

“Target in sight,” Jesse says. 

“Confirmed,” Edwards replies over the comms. “We have a lock on your position.” 

“Let us know if you need back up,” Prithi says. 

“Roger that,” Jesse says. He keeps his eyes trained on the sports car, staying a few cars behind so as not to alert the driver to the fact that they’re being followed. 

It’s easy going for a while - the sports car stays on the main roads, weaving through evening traffic. Jesse stays alert, keeping an eye out for other cars that might also be covering the sports car. So far, the strike team hasn’t had any indication that other international intelligence agencies are keeping an eye on the casino magnate, but Blackwatch isn’t going to take any chances. If the target is involved with terrorists like they suspect, then it’s entirely possible that she’s being surveilled by other groups. If that’s the case, things could get messy very fast. 

The sports car makes a right off the main roads into the Saint Michel neighborhood - which is odd. The target is moving in the opposite direction from any of the possible destinations Blackwatch mapped out. 

“You still have a lock on me?” Jesse asks. 

“If you’re going into Saint Michel, then yeah,” Edwards says. “That’s not on the target’s usual route.” 

“No, it’s not,” Jesse says. He tightens his grip on the wheel and passes the car ahead of him to close the distance between himself and the target. He doesn’t want to lose her. 

Jesse and the target wind through the neighborhood, taking a circuitous route that doesn’t make sense - Jesse notes a church they pass twice. Suddenly, the sports car speeds up. 

“I’ve been made.” 

“Stay on her if you can,” Prithi says. “We’ll get the drones in the air just in case.” 

“Kepler’s still on standby, too,” Edwards says. 

Jesse stays on the sports car even as they wind through Les Moneghetti and into La Colle, back through Les Moneghetti then up into Carrieres-Malbousquet. The sports car is moving faster, taking turns more abruptly, keeping Jesse on the edge of his seat. The sports car takes a sudden turn onto Rue Grimaldi, narrowly missing an oncoming car. Jesse slams on the brakes just in time, narrowly avoiding an accident. Jesse gives himself a moment to take a breath as horns blare around him. He can’t stay still for long, though; he revs the engine and shoots down the road to catch up to the target. 

It’s been a long time since Jesse has been in an honest to god car chase. The adrenaline is pumping through his veins; the target wouldn’t have run if she didn’t have something to hide. He intends to find out what that is. 

They loop around the Quartier du Port, weaving between cars. The sports car takes the roundabout near the Palais without slowing down. Impressive. Jesse loses sight of the target as the sports car shoots down Avenue du Porte. Once he clears the roundabout, Jesse jams the pedal all the way to the floor. He spots the target a few cars ahead. They zoom past Port Hercule and the enormous yachts that crowd the docks. Jesse doesn’t spare them a glance - he’s pretty sure he hears sirens somewhere behind him, but he knows the strike team will take care of that. His focus is on the sports car ahead. 

The driver of the sports car is much more comfortable driving on the old, narrow streets than Jesse is, but Jesse keeps up. The sports car veers suddenly onto Avenue J.F. Kennedy and then takes the turn onto Route de la Piscine without pausing to check cross traffic. The sports car ekes by, but the cars behind it aren’t so lucky; one car crashes into another that’s turning onto the Route. Jesse sees the collision in slow motion, but he’s going too fast to avoid it. He tries to turn the wheel, but he hits the two cars head on. The force of the impact drives the air out of his lungs. He feels suddenly weightless as his car flips over the other cars. Everything goes black. 

-=-=-

Jesse wakes up, disoriented. It takes him a minute to realize he’s hanging upside down, held up by his seatbelt. His head is throbbing. He can taste blood in his mouth. 

He reaches for the belt buckle but a shooting pain up his arm gives him pause. After fumbling for a few seconds, he manages to unbuckle the belt. Jesse drops out of his seat and nearly passes out from the pain. He feels broken glass digging into his skin and clothes. 

Jesse drags himself through the shattered window, the shattered glass cutting into his palms. He collapses on the cobblestones with his legs still in the car. He’s suddenly aware of the sirens all around him, the people crowded on the sidewalk, the acrid smell of burned out batteries from the crashed cars. He knows instinctively that the target got away. 

“Fuck,” Jesse says out loud. It hurts. 

The crowd parts and a pair of black boots comes into Jesse’s field of vision. Jesse turns his head, even though it hurts his neck. Commander Reyes is looking down at him. 

“Hey boss,” Jesse says, or tries to say. His words come out slurred. “Think I lost her.” 

“Let’s get you out of here,” Reyes says. He stoops down and hauls Jesse up. Pain shoots through Jesse’s body. He collapses into Reyes’ arms, his vision threatening to go black again. Reyes tightens his grip to keep Jesse upright. “Alright. I got you. Let’s go.” 

Reyes starts moving away from the crash and Jesse feels like he’s floating again. 

-=-=-

After an overnight stay in the Overwatch infirmary at the Swiss base, including several rounds of biotics, Jesse is released with orders to take leave and rest. Jesse is still sore and his head is pounding from the remnants of the concussion. They had to pop his shoulder back into the socket. In short: he came in a wreck. Jesse is actually looking forward to not working for a few days. 

He shuffles down to the wing where Blackwatch’s quarters are. The strike team doesn’t spend much time here these days - Jesse can’t remember the last time he spent more than a few hours at the Swiss base. He sort of missed it. 

Jesse lets himself into his room. Everything is exactly as he left it, including the pair of underwear he left on the floor. Jesse moves to the dresser and pulls on a pair of sweatpants, already mentally planning which shows he’s going to binge watch from the comfort of his bed. 

Somebody knocks on Jesse’s door. 

Jesse blinks, turns, wondering if he imagined it. He hasn’t quite gotten rid of the ringing in his ears yet, so he wouldn’t be surprised. But there’s another knock - louder this time, more insistent. Jesse opens the door to find Commander Reyes standing there. 

“Commander,” Jesse says, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice. There’s something odd about the way Reyes is standing - his expression looks pinched, he looks almost cowed. 

“How are you feeling?” Reyes asks. Jesse blinks. 

“Could be feeling better, but Doc Z put me to rights, more or less,” Jesse says. “I’m supposed to take a couple days off duty. Rest up.” 

“Of course,” Reyes says, then hesitates. Jesse waits, not sure if he should say anything, and, honestly is a little afraid to. “I - ah. I wanted to apologize.” 

“It’s part of the job, boss,” Jesse says cautiously. He shrugs. “I know what I signed up for.” 

“No, I mean -” Reyes stops and shakes his head. Jesse bites down on the inside of his cheek. He realizes where this is going. The bottom drops out of his stomach, but Jesse is determined to face this thing down unflinchingly. 

“I don’t think we oughta have this conversation in the hallway,” he says. He steps to the side, holding the door open. Reyes hesitates for another moment before he steps into Jesse’s room. Jesse lets the door close behind him. 

Reyes doesn’t say anything for what feels like ages. Jesse folds his arms tightly over his chest, anxious to get this over with. 

“I wanted to apologize for how I treated you,” Reyes says haltingly. Jesse squeezes himself a bit too hard, his bruised ribs protesting. 

“You treated me just fine,” Jesse says. “I said no more and you stopped.” 

“I shouldn’t have started anything in the first place,” Reyes says. “I’m your superior.” 

Jesse snorts. “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do, boss.” 

Silence hangs between them for a few long moments. Jesse can’t quite bring himself to meet Reyes’ eyes. Reyes exhales audibly. 

“I watched your car flip back in Monaco, and…” Reyes stops. The pauses are starting to get on Jesse’s nerves. “I realized that I should’ve said something to you before - I didn’t intend to…” 

“Reyes, I get it, alright? You don’t owe me an apology for nothing - we’re fine. Everything’s fine,” Jesse says, maybe a bit sharper than he means to. A muscle works in Reyes’ jaw. Jesse barrels on. “We fucked around, so what? We’re adults. We’re allowed. I’m not holding anything against you. I’m not gonna report you to HR or anything.” 

“I didn’t think you would,” Reyes says quickly. 

“Then, what?” Jesse says, more frustration creeping into his voice. He’s hurt, physically and emotionally. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to deal with his feelings for Reyes right now. He wants to lie down and sleep for approximately 72 hours. “Why are you here?” 

Reyes doesn’t hesitate this time. He steps forward, closing the space between himself and Jesse and then, in one motion, he takes Jesse’s face in his hands and kisses him hard. Jesse forgets to breathe. His eyes close. He kisses Reyes back. 

When Reyes breaks off the kiss, he doesn’t move away. His hands still cup Jesse’s face, his mouth is still close enough that Jesse can feel the heat of his breath. 

“I didn’t want it to just be a fling,” Reyes says, his voice low. His gaze is steady, unflinching. “I didn’t know how to tell you - I didn’t want you to feel obligated, just because of my rank. When you found me in that club, I thought that it was my only chance - that it was the only way I might be able to keep you close. And once we started… There never seemed to be a good time to bring it up, and then you cut it off and I told myself I had to respect that. But, Jesse, I miss you.” 

Jesse again wonders if his concussion is acting up. He hasn’t heard Reyes speak so much outside of an operational briefing. 

“Reyes -” Jesse starts to say. Reyes shakes his head. 

“It’s Gabe. Call me Gabe.” 

Jesse feels something in his chest come undone. He leans in and kisses Reyes again, his arms coming up to pull him close. 

“You stupid - fucking - idiot,” Jesse says between desperate kisses. “You should’ve said something.” 

Reyes - _Gabe_ kisses Jesse back as best as he can, obviously taken aback. 

“You never said anything -” 

Jesse finally pulls back. “What was I going to say? ‘Hey boss, I’ve got a huge crush on you’? How would that’ve gone, huh?” 

Gabe shakes his head a little. “I didn’t know.” 

“Stupid,” Jesse says again, but there’s no venom behind it. “You know I thought the same exact thing? That maybe it was the only way I could have you? I tried to be okay with it, but it was too hard. I had to walk away.” 

“I understand,” Gabe says. 

“So. Do over?” 

“You’re sure?” Gabe asks. 

“For fuck’s sake, Gabe,” Jesse says and then he kisses him again. 

Gabe kisses him back. Jesse wraps his arms around Gabe’s shoulders and pulls him in tight. Gabe’s hands come to rest on Jesse’s hips before he moves one around to the small of Jesse’s back. His touch is light, almost cautious. 

“I’m okay,” Jesse murmurs between kisses. “I want this, Gabe.” 

Gabe makes a small noise in the back of his throat. He kisses Jesse deeper, his lips parting to sweep his tongue into Jesse’s mouth. Jesse’s knees go weak, but Gabe’s arms hold him tighter. He can feel Gabe’s muscles through his off-duty shirt, the warmth of his body seeping into Jesse’s. He missed him. He wonders wildly why he waited so long to say something. 

Jesse tugs on Gabe, trying to steer him to the bed. Gabe pulls back to look at Jesse. 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Gabe says. 

“I feel alright,” Jesse says, not entirely truthfully. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, either.” 

“You won’t,” Jesse says. He lets go of Gabe and goes to sit on the edge of his bed. “C’mere.” 

Gabe hesitates, but he follows Jesse to the bed and stops in front of him. Jesse reaches up to pull him down. Gabe goes down easily, careful to avoid putting his weight on Jesse. He kisses Jesse softly. It strikes Jesse as a stark contrast to their previous experiences; instead of rushing, quick and dirty, they can take their time. 

They end up lying on their sides, squeezed close together on Jesse’s tiny, standard issue bed. Gabe has his hand on Jesse’s cheek, his thumb stroking along the line of Jesse’s jaw as he kisses him, while Jesse’s hand rests on Gabe’s hip. His fingers slip under the fabric of Gabe’s shirt, grazing over the warm skin underneath. Jesse moves his hand further up Gabe’s side, pushing his shirt up so it bunches around Gabe’s chest. Gabe sits up and strips off his shirt. He drops it over the side of the bed and lies back down. 

“This okay?” Gabe asks. Jesse kisses him. 

“Yeah, but it feels unfair,” Jesse says. He hauls himself back to sitting upright with no small effort, the ache in his body protesting. He goes for the hem of his shirt until Gabe’s hands stop him. 

“Let me,” Gabe says. “You’re still hurting.” 

“It ain’t that bad,” Jesse says, but lets Gabe pull his shirt up and off anyway. Gabe runs both hands down Jesse’s chest, almost as if he’s feeling for more injuries. “I’m okay, Gabe.” 

“You didn’t see the car flip,” Gabe says. Jesse leans in to kiss him again. 

“I’m here now,” Jesse says. Gabe breathes out. 

Jesse lies back on the bed. Gabe pushes gently on Jesse’s shoulder so he’s lying on his back. He settles between Jesse’s legs and runs his hands down Jesse’s chest again. His fingers trip over some old scars, skirt around some of the still-healing bruises, trace the outline of Jesse’s muscles. It’s intimate in a way that Jesse had never dared hope to have with Gabe, and he finds himself squirming under Gabe’s touch. Gabe pulls his hands away quickly. 

“Did I hurt you?” 

“Jesus, Gabe, I’m fine. It’s just - it’s different.” 

Gabe’s brow knits together briefly. “Is this okay?” 

Instead of answering, Jesse tugs Gabe down until he’s sprawled over Jesse, until Gabe lets his weight settle against Jesse, until they’re pressed chest to chest. Jesse wraps his arms around his shoulders to keep him there and kisses him until they’re both panting for breath. When Jesse’s certain that Gabe isn’t going to try to move away again, he lets one hand trail down Gabe’s bare back. He dips his fingers under the hem of Gabe’s pants. Gabe kisses Jesse deeper, tongue sweeping into Jesse’s mouth. Jesse pushes his hand further into Gabe’s pants and squeezes his ass. A small noise escapes Gabe’s mouth. It sends a shiver down Jesse’s spine. Gabe must notice because he lifts his head to scan Jesse’s face. 

“More?” Jesse asks, before Gabe can ask if he’s okay. 

“Yeah,” Gabe breathes. 

Gabe kisses him again, more insistently, as Jesse gets both hands down the back of Gabe’s pants. He moves his mouth over Jesse’s jaw, up to his ear, down the side of his neck. Jesse makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat and Gabe keeps going, dropping kisses over Jesse’s collar bone, down his chest and abs, pausing to nuzzle into the trail of hair that disappears into Jesse’s waistband. Gabe looks up without raising his head. 

“Can I?” 

“Hell, I ain’t gonna stop you.” 

Gabe pulls down Jesse’s sweatpants and underwear, tugging them off completely and dropping them over the side of the bed. Jesse’s dick is half-hard on his thigh when Gabe takes it in his palm. Jesse watches, pupils blown wide, as Gabe mouths up the side of his dick almost reverently, his mouth warm and wet. By the time Gabe’s mouth gets to the tip, Jesse is rock hard. Gabe wraps his lips around the head of Jesse’s dick and runs his tongue around it. 

Jesse can’t take his eyes off the sight of Gabe like this, his lips stretching as he swallows down Jesse’s cock. Gabe has given him head before, but nothing like this. This is slow, deliberate. Gabe’s taking his time. By the hum in the back of his throat, he’s enjoying it. 

Gabe slowly picks up the pace. His eyes flutter closed as his head bobs, one of his hands fondles Jesse’s balls, a finger reaching back to put pressure on his perineum. Jesse is breathing hard, his mouth hanging open as he does his best to keep his hips on the bed, to let Gabe do with him as he pleases. Jesse slips a hand into Gabe’s hair - something he hasn’t really appreciated before this moment. His curls seem to wrap around Jesse’s fingers in reciprocation. 

“Gabe,” Jesse pants as he gets closer. Gabe reopens his eyes and looks up at Jesse, lips wet and tight around Jesse’s dick. “Gabe, please - I’m close.” 

Gabe makes that small growl in his chest that vibrates straight through Jesse’s dick. He hollows his cheeks as he takes Jesse’s cock down his throat. It makes Jesse arch up off the bed, but Gabe follows easily. Jesse is aware that he’s getting louder, Gabe’s name tumbling from his mouth over and over like some kind of prayer. He tightens his hand in Gabe’s hair and then he’s coming hard, stars popping behind his eyelids. Gabe swallows around him before he comes back up. He moves up to kiss Jesse on the mouth with swollen, spit-shiny lips. Jesse kisses him back breathlessly, vaguely aware that he’s practically clinging to Gabe. If Gabe minds, he doesn’t show it. He tucks his head into the crook of Jesse’s neck, kissing his sweat-damp skin as Jesse comes down from his high. 

“Y’ve been holding out on me,” Jesse says, his chest still heaving. Gabe picks up his head to look at him. “You’re telling me it couldn’t been like that all this time?” 

Gabe blinks then laughs, a full, happy sound that envelops Jesse in warmth. Gabe kisses him. It’s tender, almost sweet. Jesse finds himself smiling against Gabe’s mouth. He can’t stop kissing him. 

Gabe shifts a little without breaking contact with Jesse’s lips, but then Jesse feels the unmistakable hard line of Gabe’s cock against his thigh. Jesse manages to get a hand between them. He presses his palm against Gabe’s erection. 

“I can do something about this,” Jesse says. Gabe shakes his head a little. 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Gabe says. 

“I’m not tired yet,” Jesse says. He props himself up on his elbow and reaches for his nightstand. Gabe sees him wince and bats his hand away. Jesse flops back against his sheets. Gabe opens the nightstand drawer and peers inside. “Get the lube.” 

“Jesse -” 

“You heard me,” Jesse says. 

“You’re a stubborn bastard,” Gabe says. Jesse grins at him. 

“Hey, you can leave any time,” Jesse says. Gabe grabs the lube and then leans down to kiss Jesse tenderly. 

“I don’t want to.” 

Gabe gets up to shuck off his pants before he settles back on the bed, kneeling between Jesse’s knees. Jesse takes in the view; his cock hard, curved up to his belly button, his thick thighs, the light sheen of sweat that’s making Gabe’s skin glow. It’s not like Jesse hasn’t seen Gabe naked before, but it’s different this time. 

Gabe pops the top of the bottle of lube and slicks his fingers. Jesse spreads his legs a little wider. Gabe drops the bottle back into the sheets and stretches out next to Jesse. He rolls him gently to lie on his side and then spoons up behind him. It’s close and intimate in a way that they haven’t had before. Jesse finds that he really likes it. 

Gabe hitches up Jesse’s leg and gets his own knee underneath it so Jesse’s leg is resting on his hip. He has one arm under Jesse’s head, while the other works down between them. Jesse feels his slicked fingers slide between his cheeks. He closes his eyes and leans into Gabe’s arms as Gabe eases a finger into him. Jesse breathes out. Gabe’s gentle touch is unfamiliar but not unpleasant - Jesse could definitely get used to this. 

Jesse shifts back, wanting more than just Gabe’s fingers, but Gabe steadies him. He fingers Jesse until his dick is twitching again, beginning to fill out against his hip. Jesse is panting, holding back the little whine that threatens to escape his mouth. 

Finally, finally, he feels the blunt tip of Gabe’s dick press against his ass. Jesse cants his hips back. Gabe presses a warm kiss to the back of Jesse’s neck. 

“I got you,” Gabe says. Jesse lets his breath out as Gabe pushes into him. When he’s flush against Jesse’s ass, Gabe drapes his arm over Jesse’s hip and splays his palm against Jesse’s lower stomach. He starts moving his hips slowly, steadily, dragging his cock almost all the way out, then plunging as deep as he can go. Jesse rocks with him, the two of them slowly building up a rhythm that makes Jesse’s cock go from half-mast to fully hard. Gabe pants in Jesse’s ear, his breath hot and damp. 

Before, Gabe’s never made much noise - maybe a grunt when he comes, but at most it’s just heavy breathing. Like the rest of it, it’s different, now; Gabe is still relatively quiet, but now he’s murmuring Jesse’s name, his voice hitching on the last syllable. Jesse could listen to it forever. 

Gabe's thrusts speed up. His fingers press harder into Jesse’s stomach, pulling Jesse back to meet his hips. Jesse is moaning with abandon, his cock aching and oversensitive. Gabe ends up pushing Jesse over onto his stomach to get better leverage. His cock skates over Jesse’s prostate, and the combination of that and the friction of the sheets on Jesse’s dick is quickly sending him over the edge. He cries out when Gabe’s cock hits that spot inside of him perfectly, pulling at the sheets. 

“Gabe!” 

“Yeah - fuck, Jesse,” Gabe says. His breath catches and he thrusts all the way in sharply. Jesse feels him twitch and spill into him. Jesse’s own dick pulses into the sheets. 

They stay pressed together for several long moments, both of them breathing hard, Gabe practically on top of Jesse, his cock softening still inside of him. Suddenly, Gabe rolls off of Jesse. 

“Shit - I’m sorry - I was probably crushing you,” Gabe says, apologetic and still slightly breathless. Jesse rolls onto his back. The wet spot in the sheets sticks to his skin. 

“I’m fine,” Jesse says. He smiles up at Gabe. “I’m good, even.” 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Gabe says. Jesse scoots over, putting himself back in Gabe’s space. 

“I can rest now,” Jesse says, looking up at Gabe. There’s a sweaty curl stuck to his forehead. Gabe scans Jesse’s face 

“Would, ah, would you like me to stay?” Gabe asks. 

“That’s what I was kinda going for, yeah,” Jesse says. For the avoidance of doubt, Jesse adds, “I’d like it if you stayed.” 

The corner of Gabe’s mouth turns up. He looks unmistakably pleased. 

“Okay,” Gabe says. “I’ll stay.” 

The bed is really too small for the two of them, but they move around and find a position that works for both of them; Gabe on his back, Jesse half-sprawled over his chest, his head pillowed in the crook of Gabe’s shoulder. Gabe pulls the comforter up over them while Jesse dims the lights. They lie like that for a while, neither of them speaking. Jesse familiarizes himself with the steady beat of Gabe’s heart. 

“I didn’t really want to stop, you know,” Jesse says eventually. He feels Gabe turn his head above him. 

“Stop what?” 

“Our whatever-with-benefits situation,” Jesse says. “I just…” 

“You wanted more,” Gabe says, his voice soft. Jesse nods against his chest. 

“Yeah.” 

“Me too,” Gabe says. “I didn’t know how… How we could make it work.” 

Jesse doesn’t say anything immediately, turning Gabe’s words over in his mind. 

“Well,” Jesse says finally. “Do you want to figure it out?” 

Jesse feels the rise and fall of Gabe’s chest as he lets out a long exhale. Gabe’s arm tightens around Jesse. 

“Yeah, I do,” Gabe says. Jesse finds himself smiling. He turns his head and presses his face into Gabe’s chest. 

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Jesse says muffled. 

“Hopefully we’re better at it than before,” Gabe says with a little laugh. Jesse snorts. 

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” he says. Gabe’s hand comes up and lifts Jesse’s chin gently. He leans down and kisses him sweetly. 

“We’re quick learners,” Gabe says when he finally pulls away. 

“Only after we fuck up,” Jesse says. Gabe laughs again and Jesse feels warm down to his toes. 

“Okay - how about: at least we learn from our mistakes?” 

“I’ll take it.” 


End file.
